


Shanghaied

by hit_the_books



Series: Cowtails [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bottom Sam, Castiel Likes to Shout A Lot, Centaur-Unicorns, Chuck is a Little Shit, Coffee Sabotage, Cowboys, Hand Jobs, Lassos, Lost Love, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Reality TV, References to Cowpat Sabotage, Sam Has Dubious Tastes in Music, Sam Hates Fanmail, Sam Loves Finnish Saunas, Sam Never Wants to Help Collect Sperm from a Stallion Ever Again, Sam and Benny Reunited, Top Benny, Won't Somebody Think of the Ratings?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-18 06:21:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9372041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hit_the_books/pseuds/hit_the_books
Summary: With the network eyeingCowtails' ratings, show producer Chuck Shurley has decided that they all need to take drastic action.Here come the studs.





	

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't read _[Cowtails](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5730511)_ , turn back and check that out first, or else a lot of this won't make any sense.

Sun shining high, the air crisp, Sam is not about to complain being stuck on this ranch just outside of Clarksville, Texas. The ranch is a cake walk. End of story. Or it is when considered that a year ago _Cowtails_ had been filming in the middle of the Wyoming winter. Here in Clarksville is like being sat in a deck chair in the middle of Hawaii. Wearing only some cowboy boots, jeans, a t-shirt and his favorite red plaid, and a cowboy hat perched on his short tufty hair: Sam is feeling pretty damn comfortable. Or as comfortable as he can get, knowing what they’ve got coming up for this week’s show.

A fresh posse of cowboys is in for the week. Ready to be tested beyond anything they have ever experienced, because Cowtails isn’t meant to be easy or based that much in reality. Like where the hell does throwing cowpats come into raising cattle and riding horses? Do cowboys suffer existential crises over rhinestones? How big a part of being a cowboy is chewing on beef jerky that was cured in 1952? Where can any of this really come into being a _real_ cowboy?

Nowhere, so of course they’re all regular events on the reality TV show.

“Sammy!” Dean yells from outside the red paneled ranch house. Knowing he can’t keep his brother waiting, Sam jogs over to the co-presenter of Cowtails and hopes Dean hasn’t discovered that he switched his java for decaf earlier.

“Yeah, Dean?” Sam asks, coming to a halt in front of his brother.

Dean narrows his eyes, blue plaid covered chest puffing out a little, and asks through a yawn, “Did you wet any of today’s cowpats?”

How Dean had found out about that previous incident, Sam doesn’t know. “No.”

A thoughtful look comes to Dean’s face.

“Do… you want me to?” Sam asks, glancing around to make sure no one else is overhearing them.

Dean does the same, taking a look around before saying, “The pat that Rudy gets? Make it wet.”

“What did he do?”

“Does it matter? Can you get the job done?”

Tongue flicking across his lips, Sam risks another glance round, spotting Ruby marching up towards them. “I’ll get it done.”

Dean nods and then looks up to Ruby. “Hey, didn’t expect to see you here,” he says in a voice that immediately declares to the producer that he is guilty of something.

Ignoring the implications contained within Dean’s voice, Ruby gets right up in Sam’s space, dark hair framing her face. “Why the hell did you order five mechanical centaur outfits? With matching fake unicorn horns?”

No way on Earth has Sam done something as ridiculous as this. He’s just a regular guy with a love of Finnish saunas, foreign films and salad. Why the hell would he order mechanical centaur outfits and unicorn horns? He glares at Ruby and hopes that look in his eyes relays all of this.

“I didn’t order any of that crap. Hello—I’m the person who stopped the rhinestone apocalypse last year. No way in hell am I blowing budget on that crap.” Sam puts his hands on his hips as to emphasize his point.

“Well then: who DID?!” Ruby roars.

Dean winces beside Sam, but Sam stands firm. Just as Sam’s about to say he has no idea, Ruby’s cell starts to ring in her jacket pocket. There’s the wailing of a Vince Vicente song and Sam feels a rare furl of solidarity for Ruby as she pulls it out and answers it.

“Chuck? What? Fine, I’ll put you on speaker.” Ruby takes the cell from her ear and switches to speaker. “Okay, you’re on speaker.”

“Hello... angels,” Chuck chuckles over the line, “did you get my present?”

Rolling his eyes, Sam schools himself from making a sarcastic reply to the show’s leading producer. “You mean the mechanical centaur outfits and the unicorn horns?”

“Yep,” Chuck replies, sounding more chipper than any man has a right to sound. “The network wants us to make this edition of the show a little bit… different. They’re not for our cowboys, but you’ll have some _studs_ heading your way. Kevin’s picking them up right now.”

It takes Sam a moment to realize he hasn’t seen Kevin all morning. “Chuck… what are we meant to be doing with… with a group of centaur-unicorns?”

“All tasks involving horses will this week involve the centaur-unicorns instead,” Chuck announces.

Ruby shakes her head. “Did the ratings drop again?”

There’s a pause and Chuck sucks in a breath. “Yes… and unless Sam’s gonna rescue some poor guy from a rutting stallion, we need to do something to get the ratings up.”

“I’m not saving someone, _again_ , from being fucked by a horse,” Sam states. “That was a one time thing.”

Dean makes a face suggesting he doesn’t think it’s such a terrible idea that Sam takes on a stallion again.

“Dean!” Sam snaps at his brother. “It’s not happening!”

Ruby shakes her head and sighs. “Fine, Chuck, centaur-unicorns it is.”

“Great! Good luck... angels.” Chuck ends the call and Ruby stows her cell.

The doors to the ranch house slam open, making everyone jump, and Gabriel steps outside, a smug smile on his face, a swagger in his step and a red vine dangling from his mouth. He tilts his wide brimmed cowboy hat back and looks between Dean, Sam and Ruby.

“Sorry, is this like some super secret club meeting that I wasn’t invited to?” Gabriel asks, vine somehow managing to stay in his mouth. Sam can’t stop staring at the candy.

“No,” Dean grumps, turning to Gabriel.

Sam doesn’t catch the look that is exchanged between Gabriel and Dean, but the shorter man pulls the vine out of his mouth, smacks his lips and smirks. “What, is Sam gonna dodge being screwed by a stallion again?”

Rather than dignifying Gabriel with an answer, Sam turns on his heel and storms off towards the stables.

“WHY ARE THERE MECHANICAL CENTAUR OUTFITS AND FAKE UNICORN HORNS IN CRATES OUTSIDE MY TRAILER?!” screams Castiel, the director of Cowtails, from the other side of the ranch house.

***

The minivan rolls up at the ranch just after ten in the morning. Sam’s sipping a cup of java in a metal camping cup. He watches the van’s occupants, five guys with hoods on, slowly stumble out of the van. Why the hell these guys have got hoods on their heads, Sam doesn’t have a clue. It’s like something out of _24_ , but Kiefer Sutherland is nowhere in sight. He walks over to Kevin as he gets out of the driver’s seat and tilts his head towards the “studs”.

“Why the hell are they hooded?”

Rubbing at the back of his neck, Kevin nervously replies, “Because Chuck doesn’t want anyone on set thinking of them as regular guys. Once they’re dressed up the hoods get to come off.” The short man gives Sam a small smile.

“Oh for… fine. You better get ‘em dressed up ASAP, they’re probably feeling pretty uncomfortable after having their faces covered up.” Not that Sam believes that these five men will feel any more comfortable once they’re dressed up, “I’ll go get our cowboys out in the main paddock and practicing for the roping segment.”

Chugging the last of his coffee, Sam jogs back into the house. It takes little time for him to get their cowboys together, everyone having been itching to get filming for several hours. He leads Rudy (how’d he manage to rub Dean the wrong way?), Bobby (seems to be more of a dab hand at cars than animals), Michael (primadonna), Crowley (no one’s seen him get on a horse yet) and Jimmy (who looks kinda like Castiel, which is weird) over to the main paddock.

Setting up some wood cut-offs at set intervals at one end of the paddock, Sam goes and hands the cowboys some rope to start practicing with. Over in one corner, the camera people and sound people are getting organized, one pair already filming things with a boom in tow. Castiel’s assistant has plopped down the director’s chair where it’ll be out of shot, but have a good view of everything.

Crowley gives Sam a wink, scruff covered cheeks melting into a grin, as Sam hands him a rope. “You know,” starts the shorter man in a husky British accent, “maybe you and your brother would like to get some drinks together some time.” If ever a man looked out of place in plaid, it’s Crowley.

Sam takes several seconds to catch up with what Crowley has just said to him. “Um, think Gabriel might have something to say about that.”

The cowboy’s eyes go wind and quietly mouths “oh”. “Well, maybe just the two of us sometime… Moose?”

No one has ever called Sam “Moose” before and he’s thinking of adding Crowley’s cow pat to his hit list. It’s bad enough people him to tangle with one of the business ends of a stallion, without having people call him “Moose”.

“Uh… huh,” Sam mumbles moving on to hand out the rest of the rope. Michael glares at Sam, making Sam roll his eyes, while the eagerness of Rudy and Jimmy is slightly catching. Bobby just nods in his head and says “thanks” once he’s got his rope.

Getting out of the way of the cowboys, Sam feels a pang in his chest as he lopes towards the coffee table set up near the director’s chair. It’s been a year since Wyoming and Sam still can’t get his favorite Louisianian out of his head. When Benny had qualified for the finals last year, the bear of a man hadn’t shown and Sam had spent a week moping around, wondering why Benny had never answered any of his calls. Why he’d never turned up for the finals in May.

Being Dean’s little brother, Sam couldn’t get away with being visibly upset when working, but he always had time to cry whenever he used a sauna. But the show must go on. Sam pours himself another cup of black coffee, doctoring it up just how he likes it with too much sugar and cream. He ponders how comfortable the studs’ costumes will be.

A gate creaks open in the distance and there’s the sound of hooves plodding along the paddock’s short grass. Sam turns and almost spills his cup of coffee. Walking into the paddock, legs moving in perfect harmony, are five centaur-unicorns. The centaur part is pretty convincing, and if he didn’t know any better, Sam would believe he was staring, somehow, at the real thing. But the man part? Those bare chested men are ripped: all sturdy arms, lean and strong, muscled chests and stomachs. Nipples erect because it’s 60 degrees out and they’re topless. Sam can feel his mouth watering and he has to swallow back the saliva flooding his mouth.

He knows he’s staring but, with Benny in the wind, he’d hit a dry spell, and looking at these men now is like staring into the depths of a lake. Sam wants in. Bad. Doesn’t matter that he can’t properly see their faces under the half unicorn horn masks that the guys are wearing, like sparkling masquerade masks that happen to have unicorn corns in the middle of the forehead. He’d happily dive into that pool of yum.

Dean creeps up to Sam and whispers in his ear, “Do you think Gabe would kill me if he knew what I was thinking right now?”

“I think I’m going to Hell for what I’m thinking right now,” Sam mutters back.

Dean slaps Sam on the back and then heads over to Gabriel who’s just walked into the paddock behind the centaurs and looks like his jaw is about to fall off. Behind Gabe, Castiel strolls in through the gate, sunglasses on and a determined grimace on his face.

“COWBOYS GO HERE!” shouts Castiel, right hand waving towards a space ten feet from where the cowboys currently are. “I WANT OUR CENTAUR-UNICORNS OVER HERE!” Castiel barks, walking over to a spot some forty feet from the cowboys.

Keeping an eye on Castiel getting everything how he wants it, Sam helps Dean and Gabriel get ready, working with wardrobe and makeup to make sure they’re looking just right. Dean’s blue plaid is really making his freckles stand out, though Gabriel seems to be sneaking looks at Dean’s ass and bowed legs every time he can. The bickering between Dean and Gabriel has improved over the past year, all thanks to the fact that they’ve started to fuck each other, but Sam still has to be ready to pull them apart.

The relationship Dean and Gabriel is, as Kevin likes to describe it when he needs to be roped in to help: the kind of spirited where a fight can turn into an obscene act with just the wrongly executed grapple.

Make-up can work miracles, but there’s only so much that can he down to tackle a black and swollen eye. Only so many shirts wardrobe has on set that fits either man.

“GABE, DEAN, GET YOUR ASSES HERE!” screams Castiel and Sam chuckles as he watches the two presenters try not to cower as they rush over to where Castiel wants them.

Castiel’s barking out more orders and Sam’s gaze keeps flicking over to the centaur-unicorns. One with dusky blonde hairs on his chest, and tightly cropped beard on his jaw looks kinda familiar, and keeps looking over at Sam. Sam’s stomach does a little flip at the familiarity he sees through the eyes hidden by the mask’s eyeholes, and the large capable hands tensing at the man’s sides.

Before Sam knows what’s going on, Castiel demands that Sam stands right by his side. Sam gets there in time for Castiel to shout for filming to start. Then Dean and Gabriel are introducing the show as if they aren’t stood in the same paddock as five men dressed to look like non-existent creatures.

“Welcome to a pleasantly mild January Monday morning, in the rolling pastures of Honey Ranch,” Gabriel begins, tilting his cowboy hat back.

“We’re just outside of Clarksville, Texas, and this is... Cowtails.” Dean fistbumps Gabriel. There’s a moment before Castiel shouts “cut” where it looks like the two presenters are eye fucking each other.

The first segment they’re going to film is called “Rope ‘Em Up!” and is pretty much what it says on the tin. Sam studies the group of centaur-unicorns, who seem to be doing their best to act a little wild, legs pawing at the ground. The way they’re wearing the mechanical suits, it looks like they must be kneeling inside of them, legs bent along the horse part. How they’re controlling the legs, Sam can’t figure out, but it looks convincing as their differently hued flanks glisten in the sun.

“CENTAUR-UNICORNS, YOU GET A COWBOY EACH WHO’S GONNA TRY TO ROPE YOU UP!” Castiel shouts. Kevin jogs up to the cowboys and tells each of them which centaur-unicorn they’re going to try for.

“DEAN, GABE, GET YOUR ASSES HERE!” Castiel shouts, pointing to the spot he wants to film them introducing the segment. “AND SOMEONE GET ME SOME CLOSE UPS OF THE CENTAUR-UNICORNS NOW!”

One of the camera men jogs over to the fake creatures while Dean and Gabe compose themselves in front of another camera. Sam’s attention remains on the centaur-unicorns, his eyes following that particularly large one with dusky blonde hair that had caught his eye moments ago.

“You with us, Sam?” Castiel asks, voice gravelly and normal. The quietness takes Sam aback, he rarely hears Castiel not shouting.

Recovering himself, Sam nods and licks his lips. “Just… one of the centaur-unicorns looks kinda familiar, is all.”

“Does he now…” Castiel replies quietly and then he’s shouting orders again. The camera’s rolling, Dean and Gabe explain the segment, do some practice lassoing on some of the wood blocks, before pointing over to the centaur-unicorns.

Before Sam knows it’s happening, their cowboys are taking it in turns to rope their assigned charges. After ten minutes, the one that Sam has been watching falls awkwardly to the ground after Rudy pulled too hard on the lasso. Sam runs into shot, instinct taking over as he recognizes the fallen man, heart hammering his his chest. He gets to the side of the fallen centaur-unicorn, unaware of the cameraman and sound guy who’s followed him over.

“Benny!” Sam cries out, helping the centaur-unicorn to his feet.

The centaur-unicorn lets out a horse like snort and then his mouth pulls into a happy grin. “Miss me, cher?”

“Damnit!” Sam thumps Benny on his arm and then draws the man down into a kiss, arms wrapped around the back of Benny’s neck.

Breaking the kiss Sam mutters to Benny, “I’ve missed you so damn much.”

“So have I.” The two kiss again, loud and wet, tongues chasing each-other.

“There you have it, two lost loves, reunited!” bellows Gabe in the background.

“Somebody get those two a room!” yells Dean.

But Sam doesn’t care as he continues to make out with Benny, a tiny part of him aware of the ratings jump the network is going to get for the show. The base of the unicorn horn keeps rubbing against Sam’s forehead, but he doesn’t care.

Benny has come back to him.

***

Free of the centaur-unicorn outfit, dressed in a gray henley and a deep red flannel shirt, jeans covering his bottom half rather than fake horse legs, Benny keeps smiling at Sam like he put the damn sun in the sky. It makes Sam’s heart ache with joy and pain at the same time, because the two of them have spent so long apart already.

“What… happened?” Sam finally asks, hand stroking the back of Benny’s large hand. They’re sat on the edge of Benny’s bed, in the room Benny was assigned for filming the show.

“Got shanghaied by some damn pirates while I was visiting my folks after we were done filmin’...”

“They get you on your house boat?”

Benny nods. “Managed to get away about a month ago… Been tryin’ to get back to you ever since.”

“How’d you end up here?” Sam starts climbing into Benny’s lap, whimpering when the man’s sizeable hands start skirting up under his shirts.

“Kevin found me, told me about what Chuck was planning an’… well, rest is history.” Benny tilts his face up and Sam kisses him, happy to feel Benny’s beard scratching against his cheeks again.

“I’m not letting you out of my sight,” Sam murmurs against Benny’s lips.

“You’re fanmail pile’s gonna get crazy again,” Benny points out, feathering a few kisses over Sam’s jaw.

Blood rushing to all sorts of place, Sam chuckles. “Don’t care. Got you.”

“Shame we ain’t got no sauna,” Benny observes. And he’s right: it’s a damn shame there isn’t a Finnish sauna on the property like the first time the two of them met. Maybe after they’re done in Clarksville they could go and find one to spend a spell in and Sam could find some birch branches again. Can’t have a Finnish sauna without no birch branches.

For now, Sam starts pulling his shirts off. “Doesn’t mean we can’t get hot and sweaty.”

Benny’s blue eyes hungrily drink Sam in as he strips off and then Sam’s eager hands help Benny out of his clothes. The two of them tumble into bed, Benny on top and Sam underneath. Twelve months of longing fills every caress, every kiss, every kant of their hips. Burning for each other, they move in a fierce harmony, Benny’s hands keen to relearn every inch of Sam, shifting him this way and that; Sam dying to fill his nose and mouth with Benny so that he’s all he knows.

Chasing after Benny’s tongue, Sam licks his way into the older man’s mouth. Ghosting fingers up Sam’s chest, Benny teases Sam’s right nipple, making the younger man hiss and roll his hips upwards. Lengths full and hard, rubbing against each other as they tease and caress, Sam’s hands marvel at Benny’s sweat slicked biceps while Benny makes Sam’s nipples hard buds.

Sam takes a moment to catch his breath and then Benny’s spitting into his right hand. Anticipation curling low in his stomach, Sam keens as Benny takes the both of them in his fist. Feeling Benny’s large hand around the both of them, pulling and squeezing over and over—Sam’s not been able to look at birch branches without getting hard over the past year—but it’s going to take little to make him come while Benny’s hand works them over.

Peppering kisses over Sam’s cheeks and jaws, Benny’s touch is surprisingly tender. “Sorry… cher… I didn’ mean… to be—”

“Sssh, ain’t… mpf… your fault… Benny… just… mpf… so… happy… you’re… here… now!” Sam’s breath catches in his chest as the sweetest release imaginable crashes through him and Benny follows not long after. They both coat Benny’s hand and each-other’s stomachs.

Rolling off of Sam, Benny lays beside him as the two of them catch their breath. “Some reunion, cher,” Benny mumbles.

A low chuckle works its way out of Sam and he leans over to Benny. He kisses Benny on his cheek and smiles. “I’m serious about finding a sauna. And birch branches.”

“AND CUT!” shouts Castiel on the other side of Benny’s bedroom door.

Sam goes to run out of the room, naked and covered in come, but Benny manages to wrestle him back into bed.

“Leave it be, cher, you don’t want your naked ass on the show.”

Sagging against Benny, Sam allows himself to be held, face mushed against Benny’s chest. “I’m gonna get so much fanmail this time.”

“Don’ worry, I’ll help you answer it.”

  


**Author's Note:**

> Why did I write this? [An explanation may be found here](http://spncoldesthits.tumblr.com/post/155157656695/januarys-prompt-posting-dates-15-18th-of).


End file.
